My Dahlia
by eden alice
Summary: 'Her heart sinks before she even has enough energy to open her eyes. She was meant to be dead.' Frank can not let Carla go.
1. Chapter 1

My Dahlia, you're bathed in possession

It takes one gloriously undignified fit off hacking coughs to bring the world sharply back to her sleep addled brain, like she had been in free fall and had finally hit the hard ground below. Her heart sinks before she even has enough energy to open her eyes. She was meant to be dead. Heavy unresponsive limbs, the turbulent sickness in her chest and the way her headache pulsed with the beats of her heart all meant that she was very much alive.

She holds herself still for a long moment listening. Fear chasing away any lingering confusion from sleep. There is nothing in the caustic silence apart two sets of quiet breath. Inhalation almost matched, almost one, if it was not for the way she could feel his eyes on her she could pretend. It was always Frank.

The wooden floor was unforgiving and cool against her fevered cheek, some kind of blanket was cocooned around her lower body. He had not picked her up and taken her to bed so she concluded that she had angered him. That would have made her feel vindicated and proud not so long ago. Now she swallows against the bitter taste of vomit that lingers in her throat and makes her teeth feel rough.

"I know you're awake, Carla." His voice was smooth; even in a way that never failed to make her involuntary flinch.

She feels no need to acknowledge the man, instead she keeps her eyes close and wishes she could go back to sleep.

"I wish I could trust you not to betray me again." She hears him move towards her, the rustling of his clothes, and the sound of his expensive shoes against the expensive floor.

His knees crack as he bends into a crouch over her, she can see stars behind her eyelids. It was a game of musical statues where they always ended in the same position they started in. The first time she had cowered on the floor trying to make herself as small as possible she did not think it was possible for him to hurt her any more than he already had. She had been wrong.

"This is why I need to look after you. It's a miracle that I came back before you could do any lasting damage. But I promised, I'll always save you from yourself." He lets out a fearful chuckle and his hand is heavy in the waves of her hair, his wedding ring snagging in a tangle.

"You shouldn't have bothered." Her voice raspy and lacking the weight she intended.

"Carla," He scolds her gently and she wants to scream when she can hear his impenetrable smile, wishes she still thought it would make any difference. She had no idea how much time had past in this perverse prison but sometimes it felt like an eternity. It took a few seconds to recognise her own name with no one else to use it. She often woke up at night covered in sweat terrified she could no longer remember who she was or if there was anyone out there left that loved her.

She lets herself go limp as he reaches down to pick her up. She doesn't try to fight and hopes that Peter can forgive her. She has tried as hard as she possibly could to escape, to kill him, to do something.

When she had first woken up, alone, in a flat so pristine and modern, devoid of any real personality it could have been a show home she had panicked and tried to flee. But the doors were all heavily locked and the windows made of some kind of glass that no matter what she threw at them they did not even crack. The telephone was never connected.

She had no idea where she was, all she could see of the outside world was rolling hills and tall grass devoid of any life. She had stood just out of reach of the startling sunlight filtering through the window and felt her chest tighten with claustrophobia.

It seemed like a long time before she accepted the futileness of escaping but with no way to measure the passage of time she could not be sure. She remembered that she had been waiting alone in her flat for Peter, still slightly giddy because he wanted her too. And then…then she could not remember.

She had grieved at losing the outside world. She had a new world of make believe with a man whose name she couldn't bear to speak.

After the first night spent awake with frantic worry he had strolled in through what seemed to be a maze of dark corridors, cheerfully carrying a gourmet meal and kicked the door shut before she could get past him. He had kissed her on the cheek while she was still too shocked to react and told her that she should have everything she needed. She didn't have her freedom; she didn't have the man she loved. Filled with pure fear and disbelief she had frozen, again. She hated how her body betrayed her weakness.

He placed her smoothly onto silk sheets and the nausea doubles as she realises that for a second she actually missed the warmth of his body against hers. She has started to give up on ever seeing another person again especially when she can't remember the faces of her family as sharply as she used to. She wonders how much Ryan has grown and if the world has carried on fine without her.

Suddenly there was a cool plastic cup placed in her hands and she must have fallen asleep or blacked out for a second because she did not notice him leave her side let alone returned. That is a first in itself, not to be constantly aware of the unnervingly quiet and domineering feel of him; it was like he thought he had won. When he was gone the suspense and the quiet were maddening.

The possibility of a drink finally gave her reason to open her eyes because her throat still felt dry and bitter.

She had rearranged the furniture in the entire flat a few days back and still found the changes a little disorientating. Sick of staring at every perfect little thing in its perfect little place that she had even managed to push the heavy bed against the back wall alone. Frank had only chuckled when he appeared hours after she finished, a smile that seemed to mean than he was thinking that it was all a charming little female quick to be amused by.

The water is ice cold and it stung her teeth. She has became so morbid that she wonders when she will be able lull him into a false sense of security and have a chance to try and kill herself again. Then he would know what it felt like to lose the love of your life, and then he would suffer.

"I wish you wouldn't insist I treat you like a child. We had a lovely dinner last night, Carla. And then you go and spoil it."

She should be used his delusions, used to the way he twists things with words but she is still left with a sense of revulsion. Still can't help but to at least partially believe him. After all she had been the one that pushed him over the edge. Last night she had worn the new slinky dress he had brought her and they had a three course dinner. He even treated her to a bottle of red wine; she had hidden her glee as she stared at the blood red liquid.

After dinner he had leaned over her and kissed her gently on the lips as if to test her response. She did not fight him as he led her to the bedroom and she did not protest when he started to undress her even as she shivered at what was coming. She was so tired but she had the wine and hidden in a shoe box at the bottom of the walk-in wardrobe there was a small pile of chalky white pills.

"How did you…Where did…Why?" There are angry tears in his eyes and a catch of concern in his voice that tells her how much he would hate to lose her. He had made her sit during one of the early days. They had sat and he had told her he knew she was sorry about the court case and that he was willing to put it all behind them because he loved her and they would be together now. He had said it all with the same dull, unstoppable excitement that he once had when he bought her a life sized dolls house and arranged their honeymoon.

It had been a slow plan so that he would not notice even as he controlled every damn thing about her life. Always the drama queen she had faked a few migraines. She groaned in false pain as he unlocked the first aid box. And when he had watched he taking the pain killers she had hid them under her tongue. She had stared at her secret stash every time she was alone and desperate silently telling herself that soon she would have a way out. The wine gave her something to wash it all down with. It seemed impossible that she would fail twice; she had been so sure this time.

"You need to let me leave, Frank." Her voice is low and full of everything he won't let her express or he ignores. She will not beg.

He's face contorts in anger; the long partially healed scars down each cheek make him look inhuman. She had clawed at his face, her nails being the only weapon available, in a fit of uncontrollable anger. There had been blood in his eyes when he knocked her flying with a backhand to her face. He said it was the only way he could make her stop.

"You know I can never do that darling." He is so grave and convicted, she should have seen his madness sooner and now it was too late. He had taken away her heart, stolen her entire life and the only thing she could do now to hurt him was to stop breathing.

Once upon a time she had smashed the bathroom mirror with her bare hands. Hidden a large shard behind her back like a coy school girl till she pounced, stabbing him through his dark suit. Their warm blood mingled as it spilled over both of them. She had not done enough damage and the next day Frank's breath was shallow with pain and every mirror had been quickly removed. He had never trusted her with knives.

"I'll leave you sleep, you must be feeling awful. I have some work to do but I'll be back as soon as possible. I love you."

He always left a pause after he said those three words as if he always hoped she would say them back. He seemed to deflate a little every time she remained silent. Maybe one day she would speak those words, she might soon be insane enough to do it. If she said those words he would stay and she would not be on her own any more. She despised the man but the silence was deafening and she had given up on ever being happy. Trapped all alone she was slowly fading away.


	2. Chapter 2

They put her in a room by herself but it was all wrong, the ceiling was too high and the metal bed frame took up too much room. No one had given her time to prepare or even really explained what was happening. All she wanted was to go back, back to the only place she really remembers and understands. But there was a police officer outside her door, nurses that kept checking up on her regularly and the constant score of unfamiliar sounds from outside that unsettled her so much she did not try to run, even though they had left the door unlocked.

Unable to settle on the strange bed she settled for pacing along the furthest corner from the door, carefully staying out of the direct view if the window in the opposite corner as she jumped at every loud unexpected noise and absently scratched at the skin of her wrist.

Anxiety pulled her insides tight and felt painfully unfamiliar as it broke through the numbness that had settled inside so long ago. It was like a sudden burst of heat had shattered her frozen organs before they had a chance to defrost.

There was a clock on the wall clicking loudly and she had stared at it at first. Watched as the hands moved around its surface and tried to match the movements with time with her internal body clock only to find she could not make sense of it any longer. None of it made sense without him there to explain. After so long of wanting out she had never expected it to be like this, never expected it to actually happen. Death had felt like the only release when she had been bundled in the back of a police car and taken to a new prison she did not like or understand.

They had taken her clothes away and had placed them in see through bags and sealed them shut as if they were contaminated when it wasn't the clothes, it was inside her in the way her shallow breath missed the reassurance of his domination.

She had been given a flimsy gown that left her feeling vulnerable and wanting to fold in upon herself. It did nothing to protect her against the chill from the draft through the old window frame making the hairs on her arms stand on end. An older man with cropped hair and wrinkled eyes a similar blue to her uniform had placed an extra blanket on the bed when she had been too suspicious to take it from him directly.

Maybe she had died with her suicide attempt or maybe she was dreaming. She had held onto everything she knew of the outside world for so long and she was sure it was never like this. Everything was slightly off and unfamiliar like a trick and that was easier to understand than the fact that she may have been away from the world too long and she no longer belonged.

_She had not expected him back so soon when she had heard the rustle of footsteps approaching. She had just fallen into a half sleep curled up on the smallest of the leather sofas since he had left her again. _

_Slightly unnerved at the break in the normal routine she had quickly sat up, legs pulled up in front of her and ready to spring to feet at the sound of numerous locks being unbolted. She waited cautiously. _

Raised voices and hurried footsteps brought her quickly back to the present as she tried to process the last few hours. A startled high noise escaped her lips as she pushed her back into the corner and tried to catch her breath as she waited for them to pass by.

The doctors would be back soon to try and examine her properly and the police would want to talk to her. She had tried to fight them before because they had wanted to know things; they wanted to touch her and understand when she had felt shame build and mixed with fear made her heave.

They had been all around her and she had hated the way she felt more trapped than she had with him. Then as she had shrunk backwards their eyes had slid away from her in pity and she found she hated the humiliation more.

She was probably dehydrated and a little malnourished but she had refused to let them place an IV when she felt cadged in already. One of them had talked to her directly and offered to give her something to help her calm down but then they had talked over each other as if she was not present when they argued that they could not give her anything until they had details of what was already in her system.

She had laughed a little at that in self disgust. Her wild gaze and nervous, jerky moments probably made them think he had drugged her. Maybe he had or maybe she was just a wreck.

She really wanted to go back. Back to the only home she remembered. Back to being numb and safe.

The skin of her wrist was raised and startling lines of pink and white. Her nails had caught in some places and ripped the skin open but she barely noticed as she continued to scratch and pace. Frantic tears burned her eyes but she felt so exhausted and overwhelmed at the prospect of what was to come when she had given up on a future.

It was all so impossible and unfamiliar and she had no idea what to do without him to tell her.

_The door opened hesitantly and she had bolted away from it because it was clear something was wrong. Her socks stuck a little to the wooden floor and she had a vague flash of spilling a drink earlier and failing to clean it up properly as she rocked on the balls of her feet waiting. _

"_Hello"_

_A clipped female voice called from behind the wood. It was familiar but placing the curious and wary tone was just out of her reach. _

"_Is anyone here? Frank?"_

_The short older woman stood in the open door way. Carla had never seen so much of the world outside. She considered running as she curled and uncurled her fingers into fists but as the other woman's eyes fell on her she found that she could not move._

"_Oh my…" The woman's hand flew to her mouth and smothered the rest of her words and she wavered a little on her feet. Even through the layers of perfectly applied make-up her face turned an unflattering shade of white._

_Carla froze eyes wide like a child caught doing something wrong unable to process anything as her brain search for a name and context for the older woman she thought she might have known. _

_It came back like fragments of a dream rather than the reality she used to have known. It could not possibly be real. _

"_Carla?" Her captor's mother breathed in disbelief staring so intently at the figment of the woman in front of her with narrowed eyes. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Apologise for making you wait such a long time for an update. I hope people still want to read this. I suppose it is the one good thing about Alison taking a break. I should be able to update a lot of old stories and not have so many new ideas constantly. As always I love hearing back from readers._

* * *

><p>"Come on hurry up!" Michelle hissed anxiously to herself. Quickly settling on taking the stairs rather than the lift that seemed impossibly slow to even reach her floor. She did not think she could stand still for the time it took the metal box to clime four floors anyway, not when she felt as if she would burst from the cold urgency and dread that flooded her veins.<p>

The hospital was one big frustrating maze she did not have time for. Every slow and mundane interaction felt like another obstacle. Hobbling patients, uninterested nurses and porters with trolleys literally blocking her way when she had fought, prayed and begged so hard for this day.

They had found her.

Trouble was until she confirmed it with her own eyes Michelle could not convince herself that they had found her alive. It seemed so impossible after so much cruelty and uncertainty.

So she did not really care when she snapped at an elderly couple because in the big scheme of things manners meant nothing when another person she loved might be dead and she still couldn't even find the right fucking ward.

Her feet already ached. Michelle had received the call that set it all in motion a little over half an hour ago and the only shoes she had been able to find were a fierce looking pair of five inch stilettos she had worn to impress at a lunch meeting the previous day with one of the factories clients.

The whole thing had felt painfully fake and unimportant while unimaginable, horrible things were most probably happening to her missing friend. Trouble was she couldn't stop herself imagining all the things the woman was going through even as she talked over figures and deadlines, her smile so tight it may have well been a grimace. But she knew she had to keep the business functioning and ready for when Carla came home. Because she had to believe she would come home. So every waking moment when she wasn't trying to find her friend she had been working.

Maybe she would laugh later that through the horror of it all, even with her impressively large shoe collection she had only been able to find the stupid stilettos still sitting where she had kicked them off in the hallway the night before. There was an irony she couldn't contemplate when she had been close to tears just because she couldn't find her car keys.

In her hurry she had almost tripped or slipped on numerous occasions. She clutched her phone, keys and purse in her hands because she had not remembered to pick up her bag. She knew she looked a bit of a state with no make up on her tense face and a worn grey tracksuit she had thrown on just to slob around the flat in before they had called. People were staring at the overwrought woman and her un-matching outfit and it had never mattered less. If anything she wanted to scream at them how meaningless it all was.

She wished she had been more prepared. Every other night she had been. For what she was prepared for she didn't know but had done everything she could to find Carla even if it just meant wondering the streets for most of the night. Doing all the little things the police wouldn't do. It had been Maria who had persuaded her to take the night off. That one early night didn't mean that they were giving up hope just that they needed to look after themselves before they looked after Carla. Michelle had given in finally because she knew she was close to burning out when even her bones ached and she was left with an almost constant headache.

She came to a dead end with a small huddle of half a dozen beds. A middle aged man was in one with two teenagers sitting at his side. They all looked up expectantly at the clicking of her heels and she felt a wave of guilt at her intrusion, all too aware that this place rarely brought good news for anyone. She ducked her head, momentarily embarrassed before wordlessly doubling back on herself, consciously forcing herself to slow down enough to read the directions for the right ward.

She wished she didn't have to do this alone, wished she had realised how alone she would feel without her sister in law and closest friend without any of them having to go through so much. And most of all she wanted to make it up to Carla. To prove that she would be there for her but as the corridor opened up into the ward she had been trying to reach all along she slowed.

There was a uniformed police officers talking to a nurse and suddenly Michelle was overwhelmed and afraid because it all felt too big and disgustingly real for her to handle alone, because through every other horrible event she had always had family. She wanted Ciaran to come back. Wanted the way his easygoing, charming manner calmed her when she was being highly strung and his quiet support always made her feel capable and loved.

There was a missed call from Maria on her phone. She had noticed it while she had been waiting for a free parking space. But she wouldn't return the call till she actually understood what was happening; besides the other woman was home alone with her sleeping son so she would not be able to do anything but worry.

Michelle hoped that the call had been to inform her that Peter had turned up finally and that he wasn't passed out drunk and choking on his vomit somewhere. For all his determination and help Michelle could not but to grow more and more disgusted with the man. They were all desperate and worried but not all of them had the luxury of crawling inside a bottle to forget it all. That wasn't helping any of them and it especially was not helping Carla.

Truth be told even as she had swallowed her concerns and worked closely with Peter and Maria ever since they quickly realised that the police would be little help she still though of him as a liability. It had not taken long for the affair to become public knowledge under all the scrutiny and Michelle still felt a large amount of sympathy for all the pain and humiliation it had caused Leanne and his son.

But quietly she was also concerned over Carla agreeing to be his other woman. That she had been sleeping with him so soon after she had been raped. Maria had tried to convince her that her fears were unfounded but Michelle had never been convinced that Peter had not been taking advantage of her friend during the lowest point of her life. She had tried to demand an explanation from Peter but a mixture of worry, anger and alcohol did nothing but increase his natural defensiveness.

She would not be reassured or convinced into believing the relationship had been entirely healthy until she had a chance to talk to Carla herself about it. It just was that she had got so used to imagining the worst case scenarios because if experience had taught her anything over recent years it was that the worst usually did happen.

"You found her? You found Carla?" She demanded, moment of hesitation over because every fibre of her body compelled her towards finally seeing her friend again. The not knowing had been hell. Having to carry on with day to day life not knowing and not being able to do anything to make the situation better, she had never hated anything so much.

Three sets of eyes glanced in her direction as she jogged towards them. Michelle wanted to nervously ring her hands or to grab someone by their collar so they would hurry up and talk but she had too much to hold. She really should have taken a bag or just left everything in the car.

"If you would come and sit down Michelle." One of the officers tried trying to gesture her towards a quiet corner away from the nurse's station. She couldn't remember the man's name but recognised him as someone who she had interacted with on numerous occasions over the past month. His soft spoken politeness had never been so aggravating.

Michelle shook her head and frowned. "Just tell me you've found her." She all but growled.

She watched closely as the officer exchanged glances with the others before he nodded confirmation. "We found her."

Something crossed between a sob and sigh of relief escaped Michelle's throat. "And she's alive?" She asked timidly.

The officer hesitated like he really hated the idea of revealing such information in such a public place. From their prior interaction Michelle had assumed he was a firm believer in the rules. She remembered thinking that it would be nice to share that kind of conviction in something when life was so uncertain.

"She's alive. The doctor will want to talk to you but physically she's in a better shape than we expected. Right now she's sedated." The strange female officer interrupted. There was a sensible intelligence in her grey eyes that made Michelle think she could almost believe her.

Instantly Michelle dropped her belongings to the floor. Her phone smashed into pieces but she did not notice as she pressed a hand over her mouth and tried to stop her legs giving way.

"But how… where was she? Who…" She stumbled for what question to ask first, biting her lip in the hopes the discomfort would focus her mind.

"It was him wasn't it? Frank. Why didn't you believe me that it was that bastard who took her? Of course it was him!" She let out a bitter anger because she did not need to have them say a word to confirm what she had already knew.

The police had seemed so useless. Frank had been investigated and the next thing she knew Michelle was being told there was no evidence that he was involved. If only they had listened to her and ignored proper procedure they could have found her weeks ago.

It was only then she noticed a hunched figure sitting off to the side. She quickly recognised the smaller woman as Frank's mother and her anger grew.

"What is she doing here?" She growled and stalked towards the older woman.

Anne looked up at her with puffy red eyes. Her expression mirrored a scared animal and seemed so out of place on her usually stern face.

"You have no right to be anywhere near Carla. This is all your fault. You stood by and let your rapist pig of a son destroy her life! I bet you knew he took her. They should arrest you for what you've done. You shouldn't be allowed to just sit here like you haven't done anything." Michelle towered over the older woman as she ranted.

She thought she might strangle her even as Anne looked so apprehensive and haunted. The restraining arm around her waist was the only thing holding her back and she fought against it. This woman was the representation of evil as far as Michelle was concerned; she wanted to have her retribution on her just as much as she did her son.

"I…I didn't know!" Anne stuttered, cowering even as Michelle was pulled away from her.

"You have to believe me that I never thought my son capable of such…" She trailed off as she hiccupped, tears streaming down her face. Michelle stopped struggling, strangely fascinated with how old and silly the woman suddenly seemed.

"You found her?" Michelle asked already knowing the answer in the complete look of devastation on the other woman's face.

"I was worried about my Frank. All the stress of the investigation. He was being so secretive so I followed him. I didn't know…I cold have never known." Anne's sharp and clear accent as she spoke distantly clearly lost in her memory and shock. "If I could just talk to him. I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation. My son is not evil, he just can't be."

The police officers tried to reason with her and pull her away again but Michelle pushed them away and ignored them. The denial did nothing but make her blood boil further but she restrained herself finding something like pity for such a pathetic state of a woman.

"Even now. Even after his been caught you still can't face the truth." She whispered bitterly. She was growing tired of obstacles and other people's problems when all she wanted to do was to get to Carla.

Anne's mouth pulled at the corners as she winced. Behind Michele the softly spoken police officer shifted his weight from foot to foot. Dread hit Michelle like falling into icy water.

"Please tell me you have locked that fucking bastard up."


End file.
